MAN I LOVE MOVIES
everyone should post their ten most CRUCIAL CRUCIAL CRUCIAL-ASS movies, like the movies that explain everything about yourselves in your current incarnations (not necessarily your ten favorite movies but the ten movies that you, as a person existing currently, feel would help people get to know you) (they can change later on obviously).
- Meshes of the Afternoon (Maya Deren, 1943) // Blonde Redhead, Melody (2006)
- Sedmikrásky aka Daisies (Vera Chytilová, 1966)
- Kanehsatake: 270 Years of Resistance (Alanis Obomsawin, 1993)
- Man with a Movie Camera (Dziga Vertov, 1929)
- L’âge d’or (Luis Buñuel, 1930)
- Ghost World (Terry Zwigoff, 2001)
- Le Chat Dans le Sac, (Gilles Groulx, 1964)
- La Jetée (Chris Marker, 1962)// L’Eclisse (Antonioni, 1962)
- New Waterford Girl (Allan Moyle, 1999)
- Pandora’s Box (G.W. Pabst, 1929)
This was SO HARD but I had to make myself do it.
Also you should check out my film tag, and I feel ashamed I only have like two Canadian/Quebecois films on this list but here are some of my favs, here.
(inspired by batarde, but also loving lists by emily, ateliertovar and maddie)
Peggy Moffitt, Love's Spring 13 issue
I’m so flattered you thought of me! THAT LAST OUTFIT.
i keep getting requests for author photos & also for performance images. the whole thing makes me nauseous: as soon as anyone puts a camera in my face i “literally” i mean i seriously want to die. as is proven by the sour expression i wear in all but very few photographs. in this respect i am an old-fashioned author. in any case my author photo is not only three years old, it’s unflattering. and all the images i have of performances i just don’t want to look at. so i decided i’d just snap the WHEN I LOOKED AT YOUR COCK MY IMAGINATION DIED spread from mercury and be done with it, but then i found myself in a fairly unpainful selfie situation. i have always loved defaced iconography, as when the romans or whoever dug into what was painted on underground walls by the early christians. these are my homages to everyone who has sent me mercury selfies & portraits on mercury of the drugs they’re about to do, or the sunset and the like. i couldn’t decide which one was the best one. perhaps the first? i suppose these images were inspired too by the nsa’s kind attentions. if they can handle looking at me i should be able to handle looking at me too. still though, i think it’s unfortunate the only way i could overcome my complete lack of desire to be photographed/see myself photographed was to do it myself in the cover of my own (not even new) book, a feat of inversion so anti-blanchotian, so ourobouran that i’m sure whatever scruples/shame/attraction to some kind of tantric emission restriction fantasy when it comes to images of myself, or what the contract i signed for an arts institution yesterday referred to as “my likenesses, ” has now definitively (maybe?) been shattered.
Ariana means I wish you were my sister in Latin
Ariana Reines will be reading in Toronto on Monday and I am glad Maddie is going so I can live vicariously through her.
Also, I just bought the non-shiny cover edition of this book
before completely dismissing the advantages of technology, pls step outside of your able-bodied perspective & consider what it means for those of us who are disabled + spend countless days of our years confined to our beds, unable to “get up & enjoy life outside of a computer/smartphone screen.” the internet has truly been a blessing for this chronically sick girl.
MoMA will present a full-scale retrospective dedicated to the multifaceted work of the composer, musician, and artist Björk in 2015.
[Björk, “All is Full of Love,” 1999. Directed by Chris Cunningham. Image supplied courtesy of One Little Indian.]
someone buy me a ticket to NY ;___________________;
I KNOW WHAT MY GRADUATION PRESENT IS
CAN WE HAVE AN INTERNATIONAL TUMBLR MEET-UP AT THE MoMA PLEASE?
The story of my body & feelings & me; from being tiny and full of myself to being a teen and loathing myself to modelling nude as a side-job.
“With a fantasy like that, who needs a personality?”
– Slavoj Zizek, Abercrombie & Fitch: Back to School. (via batarde)
sometimes I come across an image here and think “that image and I go way back. that image used to by my livejournal icon.”
You and me both, bb. Sometimes I see familiar ages and wonder, “Where have I seen that before? Oh yeah, that was so and so’s lj icon for years.”
“People forget that a book or codex is a technology,” reminded ambient lit artist Tan Lin in a 2012 interview in the new media art publication Rhizome (so named after Deleuze and Guattari’s “image of thought” concept). Literary types privilege the book as the ultimate form for reading. To privilege the book as reading, though—to forget that it is a technology—is analogous to forgetting one has a body (something lit types are also wont to do), and to forget one has a body is to let it soften and lay to waste. When you recognize the book as technology, you realize that print and screen, like body and mind, are not mutually exclusive mediums, but that they are increasingly mutually influencing.
…I wrote about the Internet & book design for Hazlitt: http://www.randomhouse.ca/hazlitt/feature/internet-killed-books-save-reading
I’ve been thinking about this a lot since I first read it last week, and left a long-winded comment to that effect. I particularly think Iris and Anaïs would be intrigued…
garconniere turns 5
I had recently been wondering just how long I’ve had this tumblr, and then ta-dam, la journée même, an email appears in my inbox telling me it’s been 5 years. Five!
The way I use my tumblr has dramatically changed over the years, mostly for the best. It started out as a curiosity (what is this thing), evolved into a cabinet of curosities (look at all these things/follow all the things/reblog all the things), and slowly evolved in to a great space where I could process, digest, discover incredible artists, and space out. At first, I couldn’t get enough. Today, I reblog far less content. Along the way I’ve had my share of feuds and unwarranted dramas, but it wouldn’t be an “online community” if that didn’t happen. I’ve also had very shortlived side blogs (food, home, love, if you’re curious) that Pinterest has since replaced.
So basically, if you’ve stuck around for the long haul that must mean you really like me?
Another thing that’s quite amusing about taking the time to absorb the idea of FIVE YEARS on this kind of overwhelming/chaotic platform is how rarely I do look in my archives… but today I did, and now I can point to markers of time… like, yes, I tagged photos I took of myself as self-portraits, up until I realized what GPOYW stood for (when did we decide to drop the W?), and now I’m not even in the #selfie game. And yes, pop culture shit of course, seeing how I was already crushing on Léa Seydoux before all the other queers. That I was sharing Twin Peaks screencaps before it started streaming on Netflix. But mostly it’s the way I wrote: how I can tell who I was writing for, who I was reblogging from and why… wierd feelings that stay with you.
One thing hasn’t changed: how much it means when just one person ”likes” something meaningful you wrote (or in that specific case, tried to write). When people send me emails when I sad-blog, just to check in.
…And we all know I like to reflect in list form.
Favourite Tumblrs (Or, Tumblrs I’ve been following for so long I can’t quite remember what my dashboard looked like without them)
- majestic/jessica (bcuz when 2 become 1)
- look up look up
- material world
- queers for feminism
- beau travail
I think it was Iris who first helped me discover how shitty Tumblr’s search function was, so that if I ever wanted to find anything ever again I had to get the hang of using tags. So here are some of the ones I go back to often, and that I think my readers/watchers/creepers might enjoy as well:
(A Handful of my) Most Popular Posts
Happy Birthday to my Tumblr.